Friday, June 06, 2008

Mairead Byrne and Can You Die of Eating Pancakes

Great title, isn't it? Who'd have thought that the making of one's favourite pancake could turn into such an effusive poem. This one is really representative of Byrne's voice: it's got such verve and life infused into it; such a sense of fun that you can't help but go along with the premise.

The poem moves from musing to pancake and back again, but the switchback approach works here, and this poem really fills out its prose block. A wee taster:

I was frying this pancake with butter so you can imagine the effect on the apple & how delicious it all smelled. I had to go out of the house (it was cold) & come back in just to truly appreciate the aroma. Ever notice that the only time you really get to smell your house's smell is when you come in from outside?

Now doesn't that make you want to go make your own pancake - with a smile on your face as well. This is one of the points of Talk Poetry: some of it is just about grabbing the fun from our lives and nailing it on the page. Yum.

I have een pondering the prose poem myself lately ...Thanks for the impressions.Been good to pop on over and catch up on things in your neck of the woods. Enjoy your writing break. Mine has become a little more extended than I anticipated, but I can feel it all coming back!

Yeah, well, it's a good thing she aint here in Dub tonight at the cafe at the end of temple bar near the council building whose name i forgot, as a new poetry night's been set up by Jessica Peart, and started last week, and will run every tuesday from 6.30 till whenever the last one leaves (about an hour or two depending on numbers)

Here from the 15 July for four or five weeks, the regional Leinster heats for the second all island live poetry champs will occur, so if you fancy competing for the title, the final of which will be at the White House in limerick this october, come on down.

And if not, come on down anyway if you can and have a practice.

I saw MB at mother redcaps in 2004 or five at a meet the beats bash, and i hated her, coz she was just to flipping good for my liking.

And i bombed as the poem slipped out my head and so made up for it by furiously writing a riff and getting a long poem beat style out that michael rothenberg published.

That was the yr the trinity poetry summer school of florida uni students decamped to brogans for their duration, all bleeding women, young and looking for the source of it, the eces and on coimhe, and byrne, yeah, she's doing great and i'm only joking.

She has just jacked in being co-mod of the british and irish poets list.

I dunno if any readers will know it, but we are having a recruitment drive to get the chat up, so have a gander and don't forget the cafe by the council building at the very end of temple bar, at the bottom of essex street, right on the end, you can't miss it, degenerate poetical types will be there trying to beat the depression of knowing that Byrne is nicking Evan's parish.

Ficts

I am an emerging poet with six kids, one partner, an MA, a portable garret and
a large food bill. I'm also a creative writing tutor, reviewer and essayist.
And I have two collections out - did I mention that? In my spare time (what's
that?) I cook.